19 Parenting Lessons I Learned From My Parents

1 February 2020

I hit the parent lotto. And, statistically speaking, I had about a 1 in 175 million chance. I should have been named 6, 20, 9, 2, and 12. Now, as a parent myself, I didn’t have to look far for my role models. My mom and dad taught me pretty much everything I needed to know for the most important job that I will ever do. Here are the top nineteen parenting lessons I learned from my parents.

Show up

What is the percentage that every self-help motivational guru life coach always uses? Eighty-seven percent of life is showing up. Maybe it’s seventy percent. Regardless, parenting is kind of like that line that Eazy says in Straight Outta Compton: “Cause if I don’t show up, they gonna show out.” Okay, not exactly, but hopefully you get the point. Our kids need us to show up. Not halfway. Not with one hand on our phone. Present. Engaged. What I like to do at the end of every day is ask myself, “How much time was I fully present with my kids today?” In other words, if they are in the car and you are talking to your friend on Bluetooth that doesn’t count toward that time. It doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with talking to your friend, it just doesn’t count as engaged time with your child (you get 0 points). My dad and I used to make a lot of trips to San Francisco, and we’d be in the car and he’d just say, “What’s on your mind, Son?” Then he would let me talk while he actively listened (100 points).

Everybody Get Down on the Floor

This isn’t a bank robbery, but you are robbing your kids of quality time if you don’t get down to their level and wear out the knees in your pants. If you have toddler-range kids and your knees don’t need extra lotion then you need to step up your parenting game. My dad used to get on the floor and we’d make pirate ships with cutting boards and push them around the room. We’d build mazes and pool tables on the family room floor with blocks. You gotta get low.

Open Door Policy

My parents were committed to having our house be the social center of the neighborhood when we were growing up. Kids were always coming over for dinner or to play board games or to work on all of the TV show and musical recreations we did in the garage. Regrettably, I remember we did a lot of The Dukes of Hazzard reenactments, but I think that was just because it gave us a reason to keep jumping in and out of our parents’ cars through the windows.

No Judgment 

The reason my mom and I have always been so close, besides the fact that I was always a mama’s boy, is because she always created a space for me to share anything with her without fear of being judged. As a result, I have shared everything with my mom since day one. And let me be clear: She wasn’t a mom who was trying to be friends with her kids. She was the boss; but when it came to me being able to open up about anything weighing on me, she was a space of love and acceptance.

Expectations 

Set some. Brushing our teeth. Going to church. Doing some chores. Going to college.

Our Kids Always Come First

My father was a teacher. He was an achiever. He was driven. So when he had the opportunity to take a position at the university level you would have thought it would be a no-brainer, even if it required us to move. When he thought about it, though, he thought about my sister and me first. We were at a school we loved and we lived in a neighborhood full of kids (friends) our age. He didn’t want to mess with that. He knew how rare that was. He decided to pass on that job and stay at the community college level for his entire career (which he loved, by the way). In other words, his kids always came first. To this day, when I think about that decision I well up. We all want to be loved like that. That much.

Money Money Money

Pay yourself first. Spend less than you make. Experiences over things. Avoid credit cards. Think about the long game. Diversify. Don’t panic. Consistency. My mom taught me everything I needed to know about money. She walked the talk. I should have followed her lead.

LOVE

My parents taught me to love. My dad would come find me when he was going to sleep each night so he could give me a kiss and tell me that he loved me. He always did that. Every night. My mom taught me to love all animals. And the planet. My parents taught me to love friends, even enemies. And to love myself. When my dad was really sick, the four of us celebrated his last birthday together. My mom sang him a song and lightly rubbed his shoulders and kissed his head and cheek. She cried and sang. And I learned what heartbreaking, unconditional love looks like.

Re·spon·si·bil·i·ty

My parents taught me to clean things up. To clean up the spaces in relationships when things go south or get funky or get messy. They taught me that the access to keeping things clean is responsibility. In other words, the ability to take responsibility without blaming and without being a victim. The key they said was to always look out for the buts. “I’m sorry I did x, but….” That isn’t taking responsibility.

Education

My dad was a teacher. My mom was a teacher. My sister was a teacher. My uncle was a… you get the pattern here. Education was highly valued in our house. My parents would always say that there wouldn’t be scientists or engineers or doctors without teachers. They taught me early to love learning for learning’s sake. They taught me early why it mattered. Education kicks open doors to diversity, adventure, game-changing ideas, money, impact, connections, joy, growth, inspiration, a reliance on data not anecdote, and on and on. “Be a lifelong learner, a lifelong student,” they said.

Won’t You Be My Neighbor

My dad taught history and government. He loved it. Whenever there was an upcoming election, neighbors would come over so they could have my dad explain some of the (always overly-complicated) ballot measures. My dad would share pros and cons to measures and candidates, and neighbors on both sides of the aisle appreciated it. My dad had a Jim Lehrer-esque style, so regardless of party affiliation neighbors felt heard. My dad, by inviting people over and by being even handed, kind, and civil, taught me what it means to be neighborly. What would our world look like if we all invited people over and then were kind and civil to each other?

Laugh A Lot

When my mom is uncontrollably laughing she goes up an octave, almost appears to be crying, and worries that she might have an accident (if you catch my drift). My dad would almost appear to be having some sort of an allergic reaction. He would bob and wheeze and look like he was having trouble getting oxygen. We laughed a lot in our house.

Be Interested

When someone had a conversation with my dad, it was like they were the only two people in the world. My dad loved people, hearing about their unique histories, their passions and motivations. He was genuinely interested. I have never seen anybody actively listen like my father did. He wasn’t the kind of guy to bounce around a room if he was at a party. It wasn’t about the number of touches or the networking. He was one hundred percent a quality-not-quantity guy. He wanted to really get to know you. However long that took. When he died, there were hundreds of people at his funeral from all backgrounds. My guess is that they probably at one time or another had the experience of really being heard.

Love What You Do

My mom was a high school teacher until her two crazy kids showed up. Then she took on the most difficult job in the world as a stay-at-home mom. My mom loved her role, despite how relentless and exhausting it was. She used to sing Carpenters’ songs to me. And she would make giant pancake and call us into the kitchen so we could peer through the oven window just as the pancake started to magically rise and expand. She took us to parks and play groups. She volunteered at our elementary school, driving us on field trips and teaching our classmates how to Greek dance. In middle school, when I was feeling alone, awkward, and scared, she was always in my corner. She listened and hugged me. She taught us to drive, came to all of our saxophone and violin recitals, helped with homework and college applications. She was the Michael Jordan of stay-at-home moms. The GOAT. When you love what you do, you generally become really good at it and the people around you benefit in miraculous ways. My sister and I were said beneficiaries. We still are.

Play Games

We played board games at our house. We played as a family. We played with friends. We played on vacations. We played during holidays. We played Risk and Scrabble and Trivial Pursuit and Clue and Monopoly and Scattergories and Pictionary and Life and Backgammon and Stratego and Battleship and Apples to Apples and Yahtzee and Twister and Uno and Mastermind and Hungry Hungry Hippos and Chinese Checkers and Operation and you got the idea a while ago. My parents were all about game time. Games connected us. We learned new things and how to lose. We competed. We shared stories. We laughed. We grew closer. My friends still talk about those game nights thirty years later.

Elders

I was blessed to know all four of my grandparents. I was also blessed to see my parents love and respect and, as the years passed, care for their parents. There is this phrase about respecting our elders, and of course we should do that, but how about learning from them? I learned so much about my history from listening to my grandparents. I learned about patience and hard work and focus and sacrifice. These were people who came to the US not knowing the language and not having any real plan. These were people who had been on the planet for 80 years. They had stories. They had wisdom. When I think about determination, I think about my dad’s mom. When I think about patience, I think about my mom’s mom. When I think about creating opportunity from nothing, I think about my mom’s dad. And when I think about kindness — and also day drinking — I think about my dad’s dad. Kind of joking about the day drinking. The point is that my parents really taught us to gravitate to seniors. I ended up being a personal assistant for a while, and part of my job was to check in on three seniors. They all had remarkable stories and taught me so much. To this day I think about those lessons.

Honor Their Mother

My dad was head over heels about my mom. We would watch a movie, and if there was a romantic element in it he would always say it made him think of my mom. When we were at parties, my dad and mom would be the first couple out on the dance floor. My dad would tell anybody who would listen just how much he loved my mom. My mom held the whole family unit together. She was our rock. Moms typically are the rock. Honor them as such.

Live By Example

My parents always had really incredible friends. Close friends. Some that were lifelong. My parents loved to dance and laugh and have conversations about everything under the sun. They volunteered. They gave back. They admitted it when they blew it. They took care of their parents when their parents needed them. My dad taught me to practice non-violence by not pushing a neighbor back who pushed him. It’s a longer story, but the point is that I saw my dad choose the right path. He did that. He didn’t just talk about doing that. I saw my mom in the most heartbroken place imaginable after my dad died. She didn’t want to live. She took it one day at a time, though. She ultimately got to a place where she had peace. And she continued on her personal quest of seeing the whole world. I don’t know how many places she’s visited since my dad died, but I’m fairly certain she’s fulfilled on her quest. There’s an image of my mom in Saigon riding on the back of a motorcycle. That’s who my mom is to me.

Show Affection

My parents were affectionate. And they always told us how much we meant to them. My sister and I knew from day one that we were unconditionally loved by our parents. We never doubted that for a minute. I think if we, as parents, can just nail this one lesson the world will be a different place. A better place.

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for all of the lessons. I love you both so much it’s crazy.